Burnt Marionette
by SGI
Summary: Kei Ayachi, a young boy, must deal with his desre to fit in to his new school, while at the same time, deal with his affections for Tomoe Hoatru, and one cannot stand with the other.


Burnt Marionette -By SGI  
  
Note: No this is not one of those silly self insertion fics.. Its just somebody i'm trying to represent as a typical boy, anyways if you wanna say whatever to me, my e-mail is mioko@crystal-tokyo.com  
  
My name is Kei Ayachi. I've just moved to Tokyo from Kyoto. I've been transferred to Mugen Gauken. I stand out the front of my new class. Seeing these endless mile of faces look at me is like an endless ocean of masses. Standing beside me is a cute black haired girl. I didn't catch her name, except that she was returning from a one year absence. Her pale complection reminds me of a delicate doll.  
I take my seat, I look around my new class, I feel the harsh aura around me. It chilled me to the bone. The seething eyes all directed at that china doll. A gaze of endless contempt. I sat at my seat bewildering, taking second gazes to her. How could such a face of delicate innocence deliver such contempt?  
Time marched on, my worried silence broke as the sound of the lunch bell rung. I guess this was my chance to make some friends.The hardest part of a students life is fitting in. I looked up greeted by a face like i've seen a million times in Kyoto. He greeted me with a smile. Waving me over to the crowd. I was greeted by Makotos, Tougas, Yuuchiros and every other name under the sun. the first thing I noticed was the pale moon standing out in the sky. The delicate doll was completely alone, a solitary puppet in the store. I couldn't help but notice her. I looked over asking my new friend. "Who is that girl there all alone?" A girl by some forgetful name answered. "Oh, thats Tomoe.. the witch" My eyes did not hide my surprise very skillfully. "A witch?" "Yeah" one of the guys responded. "She managed to hurt one of our friends.. with her powers". They could tell I found this hard to belive. I went along with it, like I said the most important and hardest thing is fitting in, I remembered Salem.  
The day went on as routine, life is like that. The bell rang, and I went home. I walked with the masses, like a wave on the beach out the school. I look behind me, I see that sweet marionette named Hotaru, alone, a solitary puppet. She intrigued me, I wonder if there was more to this? But I kept walking.  
I was lying slumped over on my belly looking at myself in the mirror. My ruffled up brown hair cut short is not much to look at, unlike her silky black, contrasting those delicate pale cheeks.I wonder what that soft cheek feels like? Theres something that stands out about her. All day I haven't got it out of my head. I've never been a believer at love at first sight. But a first glance can bring intrigue. Why could such a delicate doll be such an outcast. I laid there the whole night. And had a dreamless sleep.  
As the days marched on my eyes looked to her, never a smile on her face. Does the tsunami of contempt even consider that shes human? Although I did find out that her father was that famous professor. This was better news from me, maybe I could talk to her in private. The last thing I need is having the torch bearing masses crying out for my blood as well.  
That night my hand was soaked with sweat, my blood was rushing to my head, I was in limbo. Everything felt like it was falling in on me. I slowly typed in the number. It rang.. and rang... and rang. I put down the phone. I couldn't do it, I just couldn't do it.  
I remember the dream I had that night. A marionette was reaching out to me as a pillar of fire surrounded her. Every moment I reached out to grab her fire burnt from me and I winced back. Eventually fire burnt up around the wooden doll and blackened. I then see myself standing in a room of lamps, the burnt doll lying in a pool of blood. I awoke, to another day.  
I sat in admiration, the pale soft complection. Her soft face was wonderfully beautiful. I think it was that moment, I knew I cared for her. I looked in her eyes, I could see it, the longing. She wished to be with somebody, to have somebody to empathise with. To share her thoughts and feelings. I stood up, slowly making my way over, each slow step after another. She turned she looked at me, her small soft gasp of surprise, her eyes were brown shining brighter than stars. I could feel the gazes, their daggers in my back. I walked right past her, out to the bathrooms. I couldn't say a word to her, not with them. I was to weak, I knew I hurt her. I felt like the devil.  
I came back, I could hear their banter. Every second word was witch, I knew then they were talking about the marionette I longed for. I broke my heart to sit there nodding. It could not have been worse than the pain I was putting her through. Every nod felt like i was stabbing the one I cared for. I hated myself for that.  
I picked up the phone that night, taking the number to heart, It rang... and rang... and rang... and rang. I put down the phone. I couldn't do it. I could not even talk to her, not once. I knew the moment I spoke to her, I would become an outcast. I would be like her. Although I admire her independence, I knew I would be loathed for showing the same traits.  
The next day was with gazes of loathing at her, the mutters of witch, and evil now was added in the mixture. My marionette was now subject to the usual mad cries of witchcraft, again. And to each word I nodded, listening. I didn't know how long until I would crack.  
I took a deep breath that night. My shaking hand put its sweaty fingers entwined around the receiver putting it to my ear. The tone hit my ear as I entered the number. And it rang...and rang... and rang... and rang. It picked up, I could hear her soft, sweet delicate breathing, as delicate as her soft cheeks. I could feel her soft presence. My heart was running like a steam train. I could feel the warmth of my blush burning at my cheeks. I opened my dry lips "A...anno" I don't know what happened and put down the receiver. I just couldn't I layed down breathing, and breathing. Long gasps, I closed my eyes, my thoughts were of her, only her, that silky hair, those milky cheeks, those star filled eyes. I didn't get a wink of sleep that night.  
The usual mutters of witch, evil and cruel looks to her. I heard a spiteful girl looked at her. "And so ugly too, she looks like an emotionless doll" I don't know what filled me that moment, I shot to my feet giving a cold icy stare. "What do you know about her? What right do you have to place judgement on her? You call her evil yet you snicker behind her back with even more harsh evil words and stabbing looks! She is a human just like you, yet you condemn her like a devil" The endless faces that second turned to a sea of backs. I was an outcast, just like her. I walked home alone, just like a marionette, my marionette.  
I was in front of the door to a large mansion. My edgy finger no longer as sweaty, I was an outcast now, what they thought no longer mattered. The door opened, a pleasant young man with white hair and glasses smiled to me. "You must be that boy who kept on trying to ring. That was the only thing Hotaru talked about last night,she said somebody was ringing her constantly in the last few days, not letting her pick up or not saying anything" He looked at what was in my hands. "And you bought her a present too" He seemed at absolute glee at having a boy at his door to see his baby girl. I gave a pleasant smile. He lead me upstairs, I was at awe at the space of such an amazing mansion. He lead me to a door and then turned around upstairs, I heard him muttering about it being between the two of them.  
I was never so fearful in all my life, I slowly opened the door. I ran the scene over in my imagination. Seeing her warm face gaze upon me as I confess my feelings to her. Every bone in my body went numb. I just wanted to feel her body in my arms.  
It was not what I expected.  
Lying there, on her bed. I saw her pale sweet arm reaching out forward. And blood.. blood ran from her wrist. Down her arm, all over her sheets. In her other arm she held a razor blade, red from blood. Her face was more pale than before. I made my way over. My fingers softly touched her cheeks, the bitter cold ripped through my body, the cold of death. But I finally felt that soft, sweet skin. A tear slowly dropped on her body. "My marionette..." I unwrapped the present. A small marionette, I put it in her arms and leaned down taking her body in my arms. And gave a soft parting kiss to her dead lips. I got my wish, I embraced her. But it was my cowardice that killed her. The greatest tragedy was I never heard her voice, and never will. 


End file.
